After My Mate Killed My Sister, I Swore Revenge

The bite hurt more than I expected.

I stood at the center of the Silverclaw Pack House's grand hall, surrounded by hundreds of wolves dressed in their finest, and all I could feel was the burning pain spreading from my neck. Alpha Roman Wallace's teeth had just broken my skin, marking me as his chosen mate in front of everyone.

But there was no spark. No electric current running through my veins. No intoxicating scent wrapping around me like the stories always promised.

Just pain.

"Congratulations, Luna," someone said, their voice distant and hollow.

I forced a smile, my hand instinctively moving to cover the fresh wound on my neck. The mark felt wrong, like my body was rejecting it even as it bled. Around me, pack members raised their glasses, their faces blurring together in a sea of false celebration.

Roman released me the moment the ceremony ended. No lingering touch. No whispered words of affection. He simply stepped back, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and scanned the crowd.

"Roman?" I reached for him, but he was already moving.

"Dahlia needs me," he said without looking back.

I watched him cut through the crowd toward a delicate-looking she-wolf in a pale blue dress. Dahlia Greene. She swayed dramatically, one hand pressed to her chest, her face pale and drawn. Roman caught her before she could fall, his arms wrapping around her with a tenderness he'd never shown me.

The whispers started immediately.

"Poor thing, she's so fragile."

"The Alpha is so devoted to her."

"I don't understand why he chose that Stevens girl instead."

I stood there, alone in the middle of my own mating ceremony, while my so-called mate cradled another woman in his arms. The mark on my neck throbbed with each heartbeat, a constant reminder of the lie I was now bound to.

Someone handed me a glass of champagne. I drank it without tasting it.

The night dragged on. I smiled until my face hurt. I accepted congratulations from wolves who couldn't meet my eyes. And through it all, Roman never came back to my side.

---

The next evening, I went looking for him.

The celebratory pack run was scheduled for tonight, and as the newly marked Luna, I was expected to run beside the Alpha. But Roman hadn't spoken to me since the ceremony. He'd disappeared into his private wing of the Pack House, leaving me to sleep alone in the Luna's quarters—a room that still smelled like the previous Luna, his mother, who'd died years ago.

I found his office empty, the door slightly ajar. Moonlight streamed through the tall windows, casting long shadows across his desk. Papers were scattered everywhere, and his computer screen glowed in the darkness.

Then I heard voices.

They came from the adjoining room—the private medical suite Roman had built last year. The door was cracked open just enough for me to see inside.

Roman stood with his back to me, his arms